


Wildflowers, Hair Braids, and Weaponry

by GaHoolianGirl



Series: A Warden and his Assassin [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: But don't matter otherwise, Hair Braiding, M/M, Most of the other party memebers are mentioned in only one paragraph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:43:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"May I braid your hair?"</p><p>Gideon's eyebrows raised so high they may have greeted the Maker himself, "Why?"</p><p>"Because I would like to."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildflowers, Hair Braids, and Weaponry

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't guessed, my Male Cousland is in a relationship with Zev. I plan to set up Leliana with my female Tabris next.
> 
> With the story, I would place this a few days or so into their actual "relationship". Before shit gets REALLY real, when they still have a moment of peace (btw I have Leliana now so she comes from experience now). Or more accurately, if you could encounter Taliesan before you start finishing up with your final buisness in Denerim.
> 
> Not my best title, always open for a better one.

_Shinnnnk_. _Shinnnnk_. The whetstone slide down the blade in one solid movement, once, twice, three times. Choosing to wield one large blade was perfect for him, but it took him much longer to sharpen. Sitting among all the of the company's extra weaponry on a crate, he reached for his other blade. He brought the rock to steel before he heard footsteps approach him- light and stealthy footsteps he heard rather regularly.

"Hello, Zevran. Here for some maintenance yourself?" his tone was equal parts friendly and teasing.

"I shall never know how you hear me every time, amor," the elf said from the shadows, smirk evident in his voice.

"When you hear someone approach your bed nearly every night," he said, resting his blades and whetstone on the ground, and turning to meet the assassin with a smile, "You learn to recognize their footsteps."

Zevran _tsked_ good naturedly, walking into the light of the afternoon sun. They weren't far from the rest of the encampment, but most of their companions were settling in early to save time later, preparing their packs, and getting ready to rest for tomorrow's hordes of darkspawn and various other trials, not paying them much heed, "Why do you sit with the weapons rather than your tent? Surely you'd be more comfortable preparing your blade there?"

"I figured I might tend to a few of the other's pieces while I'm at it. No need to slack off," he said, almost cheerfully, looking around at the metal and wood he was surrounded by.

The elf shook his head slowly, "I'd rather say no need to exert yourself, my dear Warden. Resting for your strength is not slacking, I assure you."

Gideon smiled at him, "Your concern is really appreciated, Zevran. I won't work too hard, you've got my word."

"So long as I'm not dragging you off a battlefield, dead, I'll accept that answer."

Mission seemingly accomplished, the human expected the elf to to leave, or starts chatting about something else. Instead, he just looked around for a moment, taking in the scenery, before plopping down on the ground, looking directly at the noble. It confused the other man, but he just shook his head, returning to his task. After finishing his blade, he moved on to the other's equipment as he assured.

After Gideon worked for a good ten minutes, Zevran finally spoke up again.

"May I braid your hair?"

Gideon's eyebrows raised so high they may have greeted the Maker himself, "Why?"

"Because I would like to."

Stunned, and impressed by that simple answer, the Warden nodded, putting aside his tools in a more permanent way, moving to now sit on the ground.

The elf moved behind him, taking his place on the box. He firstly ran his fingers gently through the noble's thick, dark hair, easing out any knots with his fingers. He repeated this for a minute or so, and Gideon found the touch so relaxing his eyes started to droop closed. Unfortunately for him, Zevran stood up after this, stirring him from his lull. He made little effort to follow the other with his eyes, understanding that he would return. Luckily, he was gone only briefly, returning to his seat with a handful of wildflowers and stems.

His deft fingers once again returned to the warrior's head, this time collecting bunches of hair to braid, indecisively moving from bunch to bunch. He hummed in consideration for each. He finally settled for the part near Gideon's sideburns, picking it up between his fingers. He began to loop them, starting to hum in earnest, a playful and light tune.

"What song is that?" Gideon asked, idly playing with one of the little flowers.

"Some ribald shanty I heard in a tavern once," Zevran replied, mostly focused on his task, "Or was it a brothel?"

Gideon shrugged as much as was allowed to not interfere with the other's work, "Knowing you, it probably served as both."

Zevran released a small laugh, "A point logically arrived at."

They fell into silence again, Zevran attuned to his work and Gideon slowly falling asleep. Soon the Antivan had braided all his hair that was long enough, and had threaded wildflowers though each, making the Grey Warden's head a garden. He tenderly shook the other man awake.

"Did you rest well, my dearest Warden?"

He yawned and rubbed his eyes like a child, "I did. You have magical hands, Zev."

"Something I have oft been told, in many circumstances," the elf replied with a grin, helping the man to his feet. He also dusted him off, a futile but appreciated gesture. Gideon's armor would never be clean again, not after fighting so much darkspawn and endless days of marching.

"Are you done with your amor polishing?"

The other man seemed rather lethargic now, sedated by talented hands and lack of movement. He simply nodded, and allowed himself to be lead back to camp by hand. The others looked to them when they returned, expecting them to have runoff and had sex, by Gideon's expression, but the flowers in his hair gave a different impression. Most just shook their head, some in exasperation (Morrigan, Sten, and Shale, if that could be called a head-shake), and other fondly (Wynne). Oghren didn't seem to care much, save from a shout of "Lookin' good, Boss!" (which could have been a compliment or insult, depending on how drunk he was). Leliana remarked on how cute it was, and Alistair joked, asking if they had enough coin to purchase a veil to match. Jak, the ever faithful Mabari, just bounced around in joy at his master's return.

"I'd said I did a rather stunning job, no?" Zevran commented with a grin. Gideon nodded, and followed his lover to a spot by the fire, resting his head on the elf's lap. For someone so confident in his work, Zevran adjusted strands of hair and individual flowers often, manipulating them in what fit his vision.

"You're more fun than weapons," Gideon sleepily admitted, snuggling his head into the portion of the Antivian's thigh not covered by leather.

"A huge compliment from you, _mi amor_. I appreciate it," he replied, smile growing more tender. He plucked a flower from the meadow he created, and pressed it against his lips before threading it through his Warden's hair once more.•

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo? I felt like this one lacked conflict, and therefore resolution, but it was just indulgent fluff.


End file.
